Jilin
by OliviaOwl13
Summary: A hero. An extremely stubborn sidekick. An impossible quest. And an evil baddie that just will not go away. The perfect equation for an awesome adventure.


_Chapter Three_

_Jilin_

It was nearly midnight by the time Umelia rode Quint back to his house. She handed him a scroll, and hugged him tight, whispering in his ear, "Please. You're our last hope." Then she let him go, straightened up, nodded formally a him and galloped away. Stunned, he stood there staring out at the tiny, dark figure of rider and horse galloping away, quickly shook himself out of his stupor and made his way back to the house, closing the door carefully behind him.

The next morning, at around seven-ish, Quint woke up. When he opened the curtains on his window, he saw that the sun was halfway into the sky. Groaning, he flopped back down on the bed. Remembering the night before, he heaved himself up and unlocked the trunk at the end of his bed. Fully alert and nearly wide awake now, he carefully closed the trunk and sat on his bed, the springs in it creaking.

In his hands was practically the next few years of his life. _How can one scroll hold so much power? _he wondered, staring at the rolled-up paper in his hands. "Well, no better time than the present," he said aloud, slowly pulling off the ribbon and unrolling it. Pinning it down on his bed, he read the following verses:

_Things stolen, _

_Borrowed goods._

_Things that are,_

_Not as they should._

_Stolen by the enemy's hand,_

_Across the old, weathered land._

_And now should the need arise,_

_A hero bring about his enemy's demise._

_Friend and foe,_

_Who shall it be?_

_To bring the peace,_

_Once as it be._

_As fate foretold it,_

_One should come to know it._

_Pride and glory in victory,_

_Or pain and suffering in loss._

To tell you the truth, Quint stared at those rhythmic verses for quite some time. He ran over them in his head, trying to figure their meaning out, but he couldn't. Umelia's words echoed in his head - _"Please. You're our last hope." _He couldn't help remembering how good it had felt to have the sword in his hand, swinging it at the dummy and feeling the victory running through his veins. Imagine, if it had felt that good with a dummy, how good and bad it would feel to kill an Olken. A person. Someone with a future, however bad it may be.

It'd feel great, because they were Olken, obviously. They were evil. If Quint gave them half a chance they'd do the same to him. He shuddered. Rolling up the paper, he noticed a small paragraph at the bottom of the page. He squinted his eyes and tried in vain to read it, but the text was miniscule. Grabbing a pair of spectacles, he attempted to read it through them. Yes! It worked and he read the following:

_Dear Quint,_

_You will, by now, I assume, know everything that we do about this particular problem that Krad Thgin has brought us. I shudder just at his name, the evil things that he's done._

_Of course, there is no possible way you could do this alone. Because all the Elders and I will be rallying the Olka to reinforce our defences and train all those that are good with a sword, we have given you a choice: choose someone from the Olka tribe that is good at heart, that you trust and that you would die for. _

_Please choose wisely._

_Good luck,_

_Umelia Ial _

The Elders

Quint felt a shock of relief go through his body. He would not have to manage this incredible quest on his own! So relieved, he slumped back down on the bed. Then he sat up, rigid. Who should he choose? Who -

He didn't even have to finish the thought. Of course. He knew exactly who he would choose.

An hour later, he was dressed, had the scroll tucked away into his back pocket, and was riding Wing towards the training yard. There was a 98% chance that Jilin would be there, since she was so terrific with a sword.

"Jilin!" he yelled. He dismounted and tied Wing to the oak tree to graze. "Jilin!" he called out. Walking around the oak tree, he saw her in the yard, smashing the dummy to bits as she attacked it. He leant against a tree and admired her swordsmanship. _Swift, neat thrusts, _he noted, _Knows how to clean and care for her own sword. Yes, she's the one. _

"Trying to kill the dummy, are you?" he called out, amused, raising one eyebrow. "You do know that it's just a dummy, right? Not a real person?" Jilin spun around, sword in hand, a wild look in her eyes. Needless to say, as soon as she saw who it was, she sheathed her sword and laughed. "Yep, Quint," she drawled. "I'm not that dumb."

Half an hour later, her eyes were widened so much that he could see the whites around them. "Eventually I realised that there was tiny writing at the bottom of the scroll that said I could pick someone to come with me. And I picked you," he concluded. Jilin sat there for a while, hand in a fist under her chin.

They were sitting up high in the oak tree, in a fork in the branches, which made quite a nice seat. The breeze ruffled their hair. Now Jilin got up, dusted her hands off, and leant against the bough. "I'll come with you," she decided. Quint couldn't believe his ears. "Really?" he asked, wincing at how high and squeaky his voice sounded. "I mean, really?" he asked, normally. Jilin hugged him tight round his chest, her head tucked under his chin. "Really," she whispered.

Quint just smiled and hugged her back.


End file.
